


Unhinged

by PonyRunRun



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, M/M, if souichirou had survived to see his son fall down, matsuda is sadly in love, matsuda's pov, misa'spov, souichirou's pov, the yellow box with light's dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26340298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PonyRunRun/pseuds/PonyRunRun
Summary: Soichiro remembered of all the time he bent down on Light to kiss him goodnight, and of all the time Light answered back. Today, if Soichiro Yagami was to kiss his son goodnight, Light would unhinge his jaw and bite him down, but this time not to warn.Or; Matsuda's blind love for Light, Misa's carefully cultivated feelings and Soichiro's despair.
Relationships: Amane Misa/Yagami Light, Matsuda Touta/Yagami Light, Yagami Light & Yagami Souichirou
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43





	Unhinged

Tota Matsuda

Matsuda closed his eyes and bathed in the praise.   
There was not much Tota Matsuda knew how to do. He knew how to set his alarm clock and get up in the morning. He knew how to make the coffee pot brew some coffee and he knew how to run to catch the last train.   
For a long time though, Matsuda didn't know why he was doing all of that.  
Goodytwoshoes-Matsuda. Stupid Matsuda. If Matsuda knew how to make coffee in his two room flat, it's because it's what he did best at work.  
Poor Matsuda. Funny Matsuda. Pay attention Matsuda.   
Inherently speaking, Matsuda was of no use to the Task Force. He was going day by day, waking up to the sound of the alarm clock, drinking coffee and too-sugary cereals for his age. He was taking the last train because he was always missing something last minute and was always wetting the bottom of his suit pants with dirty rain by running on the sidewalk.  
Matsuda had no real goal but to be useful, and since that was prettily unreachable of a goal, it was nothing but a dream.   
Matsuda is such an easy man!  
Matsuda was the first to laugh at jokes that targeted no one but him, because there was nothing else to do about it. If he laughed, at least he sounded kind and funny, and people would stay with him. A group always needed someone to nag on, and Matsuda was very keen on taking upon that role. Better being the buffon of the group than a buffon alone.   
The first time Light Yagami complimented Tota Matsuda, it was for something so trivial for the former and so unexpected for the later that Matsuda had taken some time on the balcony to breathe out. Truth is, he doesn't exactly remember what Light had been happy about. He'd probably not really been happy about anything. Light might as well have just said “Ah good.” or a simple “Thanks”, but to Matsuda it had meant everything.  
17 year old Light Yagami had entered Tota Matsuda's life with the strength of a concrete boulder and the grace of a biblical angel. 24 year old Tota Matsuda had looked up to him like a faithful dog, like a fanatic believer in a Mass. He had drank up all the praises, had scrapped pieces of words, the whisper of a hum, the ghost of a glance, and collected them against his starving heart.  
Tota Matsuda was no one, and because Light Yagami knew it, his eyes seemed to scream “I see you, I see you, Tota Matsuda.”  
Because Light Yagami knew it, he'd whispered and hummed and congratulated, and put his hand on a shoulder, a knee, a back. He'd looked at Matsuda with his kind smile and his honey mouth.   
Before going to the warehouse, when everyone was more nervous than they'd been in years, (6 years, it had been 6 years) Light chose him to wait for the cars. It was early morning, so early that it had barely been night yet, and Light's face had turned ashen and grey.   
“Are you okay ?” Matsuda asked.  
“It will be okay, right ?”  
(uncertainty, fear)  
And Matsuda had waited a bit, expectantly, because he hadn't believed that Light Yagami, of all people, was asking him (Idiot Matsuda, stupid Matsuda), for reassurance.   
“Of course !” Matsuda had answered, scooting closer, trying to sound firm.   
(his voice was wobbly and his legs shook down)  
“With you on our side, nothing can go wrong Light. You've guided us all this time. It will be over soon !”  
Light had stayed silent for so long that Matsuda believed the conversation was over. He didn't know, after some thoughts, if this was even a conversation, or if he'd ever really had a conversation with Light Yagami. On the cold light of day, Matsuda had always been alone.  
(He found recomfort in thinking that Light had been as well.)  
But Light Yagami was still Light Yagami and he'd turned a sickeningly sweet smile to Matsuda, his tender brown eyes closing in exhaustion, showing a semblance of weakness for Matsuda's eyes only, for Matsuda to believe he was the chosen one. That he was allowed to see the true, fragile Light. For Matsuda to drink up the lies, and bare his neck to Light's wrath, accept the sentence like a soon-to-be-slaughtered lamb with a smile on his mouth.   
(wanted, wanted, wanted)  
(chosen, chosen, chosen)  
“I'm just… scared of what will happen after” Light had whispered, his voice shy, low, his eyes down.   
Polite, perfect, humble, kind. A cherubin on Tokyo's modern canvas.   
(scared of what you would do after we were gone ?)   
“It will be fine” Matsuda had assured stupidly, because that's what he did best, and because this time, he'd truly believed he knew it all.  
“I'm scared of how people would treat me if they knew who I really was...”  
Matsuda had believe Light meant being L. He thought about those words a lot after the Yellow Box Warehouse.

Misa Amane

Misa had never second guessed Light's feelings for her. True love was not to blossom on wild lands, and she'd carefully cultivated the desire they both felt for each others.  
(Misa was an actress, and she was the best of them all.)  
She'd given up on half of her life for him before fate could even reunite them. She'd given up a half again, and her freedom, and even the time of the day. She'd closeted herself in a palace of glass, where every wall was an open eye, and where there were too many ears for too little humans.   
As long as Light Yagami loved her, Misa wouldn't care.  
She'd given up on Rem, and she hadn't cried her loss.  
(She, who had been the only one to truly love her.)  
(Silly girl, mind your steps)  
She sometimes asked Light if he loved her, and she understood when he got mad. She sometimes talked to Light and she understood when he didn't answer.  
(Sometimes she just wanted to be in the flat they shared and she understood he was irritated.)  
She remembered the boy he'd been when she first saw him. Aoyama, in the middle of a group of friends. Aoyama with the sun on his face and laughter echoing on his straight white teeth. She remembered also the boy she'd met at his house, the hero, the knight, the boy who would become man, who would become god. The savior of a life-time.  
Light had become a boy then a man but before being a god something in his eyes had turned dark.  
Misa was cheerful and bubbly, and she ran around endlessly to warm up a house that had just become cold.   
(Don't you see ? When he looks at you ?)  
(Red, red, red are his eyes.)  
Red is the color of passion, and everytime Misa could buy a piece of lingerie, she chose it red. Red like Misa's eyes when she was being most useful to Light, red like romantic roses.  
(red like the apple that had doomed them all)  
Light wasn't particularly moved by lingerie. Misa didn't own a single pair that looked the same. She was still looking for what Light liked best, or liked at all.  
(she never wore one twice.)  
Sometimes, they would lie in their shared bed, when Light was gracing her of his presence, when he was blessing her with a minute of his divine time. Most of the time, they laid in silence, hand apart, with Light's back on her, and the moon looking condescendingly upon her. Sometimes, Light was colder than other days, and sometimes, he would turn toward her. He would accept to make love to her.  
Light wasn't particularly moved by lingerie, but nothing was fueling the glint in his eyes like when Misa was whispering the names of the criminals she'd killed that day.   
Misa watched him leave the house the night before the Yellow Box Warehouse, and, like every day, she thought  
I will keep on calling your name, until you come home.  
This time he didn't. 

Soichiro Yagami

There was something deafening in the silence that echoed in the warehouse, like the last bang of a gunshot that had yet to be fired.  
Soichiro Yagami looked at his firstborn son standing in a puddle of light, the fan above turning lazily, round and round, like another sun or a hissing aureole.   
Soichiro Yagami looked at his son's face, at the glimmer in his eyes and the edge on his smile.   
Light didn't turn his back on them. He didn't look like a cornered animal. He didn't look pitiful or repentant. He looked like a particularly vicious snake, ready to attack despite not being on an empty stomach.   
For no reasons.  
Just for the fun of it.  
Soichiro remembered of all the time he bent down on Light to kiss him goodnight, and of all the time Light answered back. Today, if Soichiro Yagami was to kiss his son goodnight, Light would unhinge his jaw and bite him down, but this time not to warn.   
There was a puddle of light on the floor, and in it Soichiro could see himself die.  
“The old gods are dead.”  
Soichiro didn't recognize his son's voice. Unrepentent.   
(showing no regrets for one's wrongdoing.)  
He looked at the young man expectantly, waiting for the prank to fall, for everyone to laugh, but only the stagnant silence answered.   
(It's true, I am Kira)  
A single tear fell, then another, and Matsuda exploded in a terrible breakdown. The words of a man blinded by love resonnated in the warehouse, and Soichiro couldn't open his mouth. Not just Matsuda. Everyone had been blinded. Lured. Arrogant boy with his pretty face, his own son and his deadly stares. Soichiro held his gun with so little conviction that it almost fell. The gun might as well turn against him and he wouldn't mind. Nothing was comparable to the horror of the moment.  
Light's eyes glowed in the dark with malevolent energy. He, who had always been beautiful, the pride of his parent, was now revelling himself in all his true nature.  
(Ugly, ugly, ugly.)  
“What are you gonna do now ? Kill me ?” Light asked in the expectative, his arms open, the enbodiment of a Jesus on his cross.  
Oh no... thought Soichiro and the grief clogged his throat. Oh no please... not my Light. My baby boy. No please he's my little boy... What have you become baby ? Where have you gone ? All this time in the night.  
Soichiro remembered, of how many time he had rocked his first born son in his arms, of how many lessons he'd taught him by his knee, the faculty to be kind, and good, and righteous. Where had that all gone ? Was it somewhere in his son ? So far fetched that it couldn't see the light anymore ? Was the real Light trapped in the dark and this monster who'd taken possession of him was now in control ?  
“No dad.” the man said looking at him with his evil eyes, and Soichiro realized he'd spoken up. “You are what you surrender to. And this ?” - he pointed at the death note in Near's restless hands “is the object of my triumph. You've all lost.”  
He had his charming face to snear at them. He was oh so beautiful, and oh so righteous, and oh so in the wrong.  
A tear fell from Soichiro's unblinking eyes and he looked at his boy one last time.  
(he pulled the trigger.)


End file.
